Black Hole
by Unsaid Goodbyes
Summary: In other worlds, she cared too much and thought too little. That is not how it is now, and perhaps the story would never be the same with those things in mind. This is a Bella unlike any other and an Edward who'll have to learn to be. Major OOC-Bella. AU
1. Prologue

_A/N:_ Hello there, my old readers or new ones. I haven't written here for a while, as you know. I just couldn't stand Twilight anymore. Recently, I've begun to realize how very much I dislike Bella's character. She's so...desperate for Edward's attention and approval, and has absolutely no pride. It kind of bothers me to read her now, because she's just the very kind of person I'd hate in real life. So, I decided to rewrite her character completely—make her someone far different than she's ever been before. Enjoy...

…

_Prologue_

**Third Person POV:**

The night was dark; it was January anyway. But unlike January winters anywhere else, flakes of snow did not fall from the sky here. Not in Phoenix, Arizona—such trivialities were not necessary in day to day life. Although, they made no difference to the frosty attitude of Isabella Swan, and the sunny weather of her current hometown never had.

The brown-eyed girl regarded her mother with indifference. The two of them—so alike, and yet so not—stared at each other, wearing entirely different expressions upon their equally pale faces. While Isabella's held absolutely _nothing_ (and it never had before), her mother's face was a completely different story. It was full of pity and desperation.

"Bella, I can't deal with this anymore," She said, in a tone that probably suggested otherwise (perhaps she was lying, or perhaps she just didn't know how to put her sentences together), "You're just...even Phil agrees. Here is not...good for you. You're not—"

Bella cut her off, "I know. You've told me before." Her mother cringed, almost detesting her daughter's hollow voice—it'd never had much of a ring to it—and suddenly, she seemed to regain all her composure, which she surely hadn't had before. Renée Dwyer's eyes flashed, hardening into stone. She might've been childish at times, maybe even mildly self-indulgent, but she did take her parental responsibilities seriously.

Especially at times such as these.

"You're seventeen years old." Bella did not even bristle at the condescending tone. "Seventeen year olds don't act like you do. It's just—" Her composure slipped again, and Renée struggled for control, "...I'm sending you to Forks."

Bella blinked, hardly interested, "Okay."

For a moment, Renée almost thought her sad. But Bella did not _do_ sad. Bella did not do _any_ emotion. It was just wistful thinking to daydream that this teenage girl might show some form of disappointment or _anything_. Perhaps even eagerness, which would've been a step up from this empty shell of a person. But...no...it was a fruitless wish. It was a depressing and solemn thing to think about—especially for someone as bright and happy as Renée—, but all the same, it was true.

"Maybe this will be good for you," The peridot-eyed woman said to her daughter, "You never know. Please...just...give it a shot, okay? You don't need to be so cynical about everything, you know."

There was silence. A drop, and then more, until the room was bathed in its glory and it reflected off every surface. Bella's eyes found her mother's eyes and they clashed together—a dull brown to a lively green—, and with that she looked away. It was dark outside, but it felt darker inside.

"I'm not cynical," Bella disagreed, but she put no force into her argument, "I just don't care."

…

_A/N:_ Leave me a review or something. I'm curious to see what you think about my new Bella. You'll get to learn a lot more about her in coming chapters, and I can't wait to write her interactions with Edward and the others. She's really going to make their heads spin. If you have any suggestions or anything at all, tell me. If I like them, they might be useful for later chapters.

To inform you a little of what I've been doing since my slight hiatus, I created another account. It has nothing to do with Twilight or anything of the sort, and if you're genuinely interested in knowing, please ask me. But I posted this story on that account for a while, until I realized I no longer wanted to write Twilight fanfiction and deleted it. I've still moved on from Twilight, but I want this story somewhere other than my computer. So here it is.

-Breathless Tomb-


	2. Chapter 1

_A/N:_ I hope you all enjoyed the prologue. I just needed to show Bella's interaction with everyone, _including_ her mother. I need to show just how Bella's attitude—persona—affects the people around her. Edward and the others won't appear until the next chapter, so stay tuned. Continue...

...

_Chapter One_

**Third Person POV:**

The weather from Phoenix to Forks was a huge shift. Like night and day, Bella observed from the plane the weather change, as she landed in Seattle, where her father would be waiting for her. The sky had been cloudless in Phoenix, but that was all she could seem to see here. Clouds upon clouds and clouds. Rain too, but that fact was a little less prominent than the covering of clouds. Oh well.

Bella sighed and grabbed her bags, meeting her father a few minutes after stepping off the plane. He smiled awkwardly at her and opened his arms. With great disinclination, Bella returned his one-armed hug, though she'd never been much of a touchy-feely person. Perhaps it was a genetic trait—her dad didn't seem like he enjoyed the hug anymore than she did.

Despite that similarity, Bella and Charlie Swan were still polar opposites. It was clear to anyone just by staring at their faces. While Charlie's face was warm and accepting—perhaps a dulled warm, as he was a man and had been taught from a young age to not allow his emotions to interfere with his life—, but it was a sharp contrast to Bella's apathetic face—perhaps a facade, but it was a damn good one if it was, since she'd had it every time he'd ever seen her.

"It's good to see you, Bells," He said, trying to fill the silence between them on the way to the car, "You haven't changed much. How's Renée?"

"Renée's good; and it's good to see you too." Why did Charlie have a hard time believing the last part of the sentence? He felt guilty about it, but something in him—an instinct perhaps, and he'd long learned to trust his instincts—told him that Bella was only saying that for his sake. The formality Bella used addressing her mother also worried Charlie a little. He'd never heard a teenager refer to their parent by name _while still_ being polite.

He was the Police Chief anyway, and he was trained to detect these things. It just unnerved him to hear them all coming from his own daughter.

"Umm...I found a good car for you, really cheap," He informed her once the both of them were strapped in.

"Thank you," Bella replied, looking out the window, and not sounding very thankful at all, "That's very considerate of you."

For the rest of the drive, Bella remained quiet, keeping to herself. It was not unusual for her though, and the fact that Charlie could say this almost frightened him. The rain began to come down harder as they passed the _'Entering Forks, Washington'_ sign. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, but Bella mused to herself that perhaps the town had been cursed with eternal rainfall. She barely smirked—an invisible quirk of her lips that no one else could possibly detect; it was her own version of being amused.

It was green—a colour Bella rarely saw, but enjoyed nonetheless. Despite her cold exterior, Bella did have preferences and thoughts. She just preferred to keep them to herself. No one else had ever earned the right to her personal opinions and musings. They weren't interested in knowing and she wasn't interested in telling. They were scared of her and she was bored of them.

_Oh well,_ she thought while resting her head against the window, _we'll see how this goes_. This would be a change and perhaps the kids here would be different from everywhere else in the world. It was unlikely—all children were the same to Bella—, but it was a possibility nonetheless. She would explore this town and learn its ins and outs.

Eventually, they made it to Charlie's small, two-bedroom house. Parked on the street in front of the house was—what Bella presumed to be—her new truck. It was a red Chevy, something that looked nearly indestructible. Bella reminded herself that this would be the kind of car that would've been laughed right out of the parking lot in Phoenix. She still couldn't bring herself to care.

"You like it?" Charlie asked, noticing Bella staring at it, "I got it off Billy Black—it's a homecoming present for you." He seemed almost embarrassed, as if it were too sappy of him to get his only daughter a present to welcome her return. Bella looked over at him and nodded.

"It's fine. I needed a car anyway."

And that was all he was going to get out of her—even Charlie recognized the note of finality in her voice. Bella obviously was not in the mood to talk anymore. It had been a long flight, so he couldn't really blame her. Besides, he wasn't one for lengthy discussion either and perhaps that gave them another similarity—Charlie almost felt proud of himself for finding another way to connect with his daughter.

Bella, of course, didn't really notice nor care enough to notice.

It took only a single trip to haul all of Bella's bags up to her room—the one that viewed the front yard, with a giant tree looming near it. The room was calm and peaceful, with pastel blue walls and white lace curtains that were turning a yellow-cream in their old age. It was the picture perfect room for Bella, with nothing too complicated or too...not her. Bella's room would never be one with colourful paint or band posters tapped to the walls.

Charlie would've liked to stick around to help Bella unpack, but he felt himself get shut out—mentally of course, as he could almost _see_ her withdraw into herself. So, instead, he left, leaving Bella on her own. The brown-eyed girl shut her door behind him, relived to be alone at last. She hadn't appreciated being cramped in a coach class flight for four hours, but at least now she could appreciate only having two people in the whole house.

Any other girl in her place might've been horrified at the idea of being the new girl in a new school—especially in a town as small as Forks was. The high school alone had a total of about three hundred and fifty-eight students in it—which even Bella had to admit was a ridiculously low number—, but somehow...she still didn't mind too much.

They were still kids; still normal kids with normal tastes and normal prejudices. They were nothing special, and Bella didn't feel like she desperately needed to fit in with anyone or fit any standards. She never had fit in anywhere _before_, with her unusually pale skin (not to mention matching brown hair and brown eyes) and lack of physical prowess, so why should it matter now?

She'd just be leaving in a couple of years anyway, to venture off and live the way _she_ wanted to, without being constantly nagged to be a certain way or act a certain way. People had always viewed her as an oddity—the girl from the valley of the sun who was neither a sunny girl nor a valley girl. And it was because of _those_ people that she was the way she was nowadays. A person could only be pushed and pushed so many times to be a certain _something_ before they decided to be _nothing_.

When she finished putting her clothes in the dresser, Bella journeyed to the bathroom to put away her bathroom supplies and freshen up a bit. Seeing the fresh layer of sweat across her skin and her hair damp from the falling rain, Bella took a quick shower, blow drying her hair once she was done. During the process, feeling her wet hair against her back, Bella regarded her appearance in the mirror.

She _did_ realize that even emotionally, she'd never be able to fit in anywhere. No one would ever begin to understand her, and barely anyone could even tolerate her for long periods of time. And that was not her thinking cynically, as Bella was not a cynic. Bella was a realist, and she knew—realistically speaking—that most people _could not_ take her persona.

It wasn't their fault—people were unused to someone like Bella, and had a hard time trying to figure her out, even slightly. They didn't know how to act or react, and her indifference usually left them cold. Even her own mother and step-father could not handle her. Barely even her own father could, but at least he had more patience than anyone she'd ever met.

To herself, as Bella thought all this, she hummed quietly; her own version of a laugh. Wouldn't it be interesting to see how the children here reacted to her? Perhaps this _would_ be an interesting experience. But for now, it was merely a beginning.

...

The next morning was foggy as opposed to rainy, which Bella didn't really mind too much. That meant she'd only have to wear a sweater instead of a raincoat, which was mildly irritable. Charlie served breakfast early in the morning, an hour before she would've woken up back in Phoenix. But Bella was a good morning person, and didn't complain at the early wake-up call.

"Good luck at school today," Charlie said as he was about to leave. Bella nodded.

"Have a good day." It was weird hearing the sentiment falling from her lips—abnormal in fact, since Bella didn't seem like the kind of person to wish _anyone_ to have a good day. But before he could comment—not that he was planning on it—she swept from the hallway back to her room.

_It's not uncomfortable living in this house, _Bella thought to herself as she got dressed. And it wasn't. It was peaceful here and Charlie wasn't like Renée _at all_, which helped. Not that Bella didn't love her mother; she just didn't particularly like her. Renée was one of _those people_ who constantly tried to harass Bella into the person she wanted her to be.

_That_ was uncomfortable.

It was fairly cold out, so Bella donned a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, which would surely protect her from the frigid winds and the rain (if there was any today, and Bella suspected there might, with this cursed town). Grabbing her bag with her books stacked neatly inside, Bella went to her new truck, sliding into the driver's seat. It smelt faintly of peppermint, which was nice.

The school wasn't quite so difficult to find, though it was hidden behind a rather large expansion of foliage. It was...also...much calmer than Bella's school back in Phoenix, without chain-link fences or metal detectors or even obviously placed security cameras. Bella unwillingly parked in front of the front office, not knowing where else to park. Hopping from the cab of her truck, Bella swung her bag over her shoulder and slammed the car door shut.

Students stared at her as if she were some kind of wild animal, but what did that matter? She understood their fleeting concerns, to see if she was some sort of wild child or introverted book-nerd. They were petty things to be curious about, but reasons nevertheless. Bella refused to meet the eyes of any of the students, not entirely interested in whom she'd be attending school with.

The office was brightly lit and toasty warm—a startling contrast from the weather outside. There were orange plastic chairs placed against the wall, for people who were waiting. As the office was empty, Bella advanced straight to the long counter than cut the room in half. An auburn-haired woman sat behind the counter, who looked up as she heard Bella's approach. Her eyes held a wariness to them.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"I'm Isabella Swan," Bella said, having practiced the same phrase in her head over and over. Immediately, the woman perked up. As Bella had expected, her arrival had probably been the main topic of gossip in the tiny town.

"Of course," The woman said, digging through a stack of documents to pull out the right ones, "I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school." The secretary then proceeded to go through Bella's class schedule with her as well as the layout of the school. At the end of her detailed explanation, the secretary—"My name is Ms. Cope," The woman informed her—handed Bella a slip to have each teacher sign, that was to be brought back at the end of the day.

"Thank you," Bella said in a dull voice, even though she really did mean the sentiment. Ms. Cope appeared discontent around Bella, which did not surprise the teenager. She merely fled the office quickly and headed back for her car, following the newly arriving students to the appropriate parking lot.

Apparently, everyone in this small town made about the same income, since there didn't seem to be any particular car that stood out in the parking lot—maybe apart from a silver Volvo, but that was nothing special. _Maybe my car won't be the laughingstock,_ Bella mused. She almost smirked again, but didn't.

Bella glanced down at her map once, figuring out where to go for her first class before packing her papers into her bag. She'd look again later for her next class. Right now, it seemed like the bell was about to ring, and Bella did not feel like being late for her first class on her first day. She was trying to make a _good_ first impression, little as she cared. It was more for Charlie's sake than her own.

Her first class would apparently be with Mr. Mason in building three, which was right around the cafeteria. The building was easy to spot, and Bella followed a couple of people in jackets into the class. The classroom was small, but very accommodating, with a long row of hooks for the students to hang up their jackets. Noticing that it was common courtesy to remove her sweater in the classroom, Bella did so, even though she would've much rather kept it on.

Mr. Mason quickly sent his newest student to an empty desk at the back of the class without need for an introduction, which Bella didn't mind at all. She felt the many eyes on her as she made her way to the back of the room, the students already scrutinizing her. It wasn't difficult to pick up on her disinterest in being here.

Bella glanced down at the reading list she'd been handed from the teacher. Luckily for her—or many unluckily—, it was everything Bella had already read—ranging from Shakespeare to Faulkner. _At least this class won't be too difficult, _Bella thought with mild interest still scanning the list. It was a little disappointing though; Bella would've liked to have expanded her reading horizons. She'd have to do that on her own time now.

At the end of class—the bell was quite an irritating sound, Bella reasoned with herself—, a gawky boy with excessive acne and dark hair leaned across the aisle to talk to her. His smile was friendly and non-threatening (which Bella appreciated, because it meant that the boy didn't hate her on first sight, like a lot of people did), but she couldn't smile back.

"You're Isabella Swan, aren't you?" He was a polite boy, so perhaps Bella would be able to get along with him. For the most part, if her attitude didn't scare him off.

"Yes," She stated plainly, "Nice to meet you." She held her hand out and he grasped it, shaking quickly. His palm was sweaty and Bella wiped her hand against her jeans when she pulled back. He didn't notice her slight disgust.

"I'm Eric Yorkie, student council president," He introduced himself, "...Where's your next class?"

She rechecked her schedule, "Government, with Jefferson, in building six." She met his stare head on, giving him her attention, though it did not appear that way to anyone else.

All they saw was an apparently uninterested girl, trying to look like she gave a damn, when in truth she didn't. And perhaps that applied to how she really felt as well, but Bella tried to convince herself that she really did care what this acne-ridden boy had to say.

"I'm headed toward building four, I could show you the way..." He seemed like he was trying very hard to not seem frightened or unnerved by her, which did somewhat amuse Bella. She nodded and her lack of a smile made the boy squirm, but Bella was quickly beginning to lose interest again.

"That'd be helpful." It was an odd phrase of sorts, and a couple of people that lingered in the classroom looked like they'd already formed an opinion about the new girl.

She packed up her belongings and slipped back on her sweater as Eric did the same. It was starting to drizzle outside (as Bella had assumed it would), so she threw her head over her hair. As they left the classroom together, Bella noticed that several people behind them were walking close enough to listen in on any particular conversation her and Eric might have. She decided not to mention it.

"So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?" He asked.

"Very."

"It doesn't rain much there, does it?"

"Not very much."

"Wow, what must that be like?" He wondered, and Bella realized that she felt _comfortable_ around this boy. He could be a potential friend, which was a nice thing to think about.

"Sunny," She told him, and felt the oddest desire to talk more, merely to make sure the boy didn't end up completely hating her and her indifferent personality. That was a sad thing to think about, albeit normal and not something that Bella felt like bringing up.

"You don't look very tan."

"I'm actually a vampire."

He chuckled a little, but then stopped when Bella didn't join in with him, searching her face apprehensively. Already it was obvious that Bella telling jokes was something to probably be avoided—he didn't like the way she didn't act like it was a joke, even though that seemed to be her normal attitude.

Walking back around the cafeteria, Eric let Bella off right at the door, which was marked with a four painted in black paint on it.

"Well, good luck," He said the moment Bella touched the door handle. "Maybe we'll have some other classes together." Bella regarded him for a moment before shrugging and passing through the door into the classroom.

Bella could only imagine that maybe if the rest of her classes went like this, she might very well enjoy the rest of this school year.

...

_A/N:_ I hoped you like that. The real first chapter of Twilight is much longer, so I cut it down. I didn't really want to surpass three thousand words. You'll get to see the first appearance of Edward next time.

-Breathless Tomb-


	3. Chapter 2

_A/N:_ Here's this chapter.

…

_Chapter Two_

**Third Person POV:**

Faces became more familiar to Bella as she flitted from class to class. Few people made an effort to introduce themselves to the intimidating girl, and only a portion of them even had the _thought_ of spending more time with her. Simply put, this Bella girl scared them, and not many people had an immunity to her blank gaze and short sentences.

One of those who actually had the courage to approach her and even invite Bella to lunch, was Jessica Stanley, a tiny, dark-haired girl with small eyes. Jessica even made the extra effort of guiding Bella to the cafeteria, showing her where to sit. All the while Bella observed Jessica, trying to figure her out. It wasn't long before Bella deemed Jessica as brainless as she was gutless—Jessica was still quite intimidated by the five-foot-four brunette, but maintained a cheery facade in order to make herself _appear_ better.

Of course, Bella couldn't really care less whether she was friends with this Jessica or not. Either way, she'd remain polite if not distant.

Jessica led her to the end of a full table with several other people, who were each introduced one by one. Bella filed each of their names and faces into her memory before directing her attention to the rest of the cafeteria, surveying everyone. It appeared that Jessica's plan had worked—everyone regarded her as some sort of demigod for even _daring_ to speak to Isabella Swan. Even Eric, the boy who'd already spoken to Bella, seemed a little in awe.

One particular group of students clustered together at a singular table caught Bella's eye. They were completely isolated from the rest of the students, sitting at the far end of the cafeteria. It did not take much time for Bella to realize that they all donned the same expression as her own—a face devoid of life, indicating their tiredness with this school and these kids. In front of each of them rested an untouched tray of food, and Bella thought for a moment they might all have a similar eating disorder.

What Bella also remarked was how perfect their trays were. The food they'd selected was not the usual food eaten by teenagers, even in a town such as Forks, Washington. There was no greasy slice of pizza or sugar-filled energy drink—instead there was an assortment of fruits and vegetables, and a bottle of juice beside their plates.

They did not gawk at her, unlike the others, and they did not whisper quietly to one another as if they were all close friends. They each had similar traits—dark eyes, pallid skin (as if they did not get out much), and purplish bruises under said dark eyes. But yet, they were all completely different, and Bella knew that people so different should not—logically—have such similar traits.

There were three boys. There was a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead—as different as they could come. Not only differentiating in hair tones, they also differed in size and height. The blonde was easily the tallest, but also the lankiest—he looked like he could be a part of some underground alternative band. The brunette was muscled like a serious weight lifter, the kind of person not easily messed with. And then there was the redhead, who looked to be a combined mixture of his two counterparts, with the middle height and a little more muscled than the blonde.

There were also two girls, who were far more different from each other than the boys. The taller one was positively the most beautiful woman Bella had ever seen before in her life, with gently flowing golden hair and Cupid-bow lips. The shorter one was the blonde's opposite, but nearly as striking, though in a completely separate way. She had close-cut ink hair, spiked out in each and every direction, and her features were thin and defined, not an inch of fat on her body.

All in all, they were perhaps the most gorgeous people to have ever existed—or at least, the most gorgeous people Bella had ever seen. It was utterly outrageous—and unfair—how _this_ town could be home to _these_ people. Were these not the type of people usually found in California or L.A? Why would they be in a town as small as Forks and not models traveling the world?

Bella figured it wasn't her business—nor did she really care enough to make it her business—and simply watched as the pixie-like one rose from her seat, balancing her untouched tray on one hand. With a gait that could not be rivalled in grace, she made her way over to the trash can and dumped the contents of her tray, before departing from the cafeteria. None of her companions made an effort to follow her, nor did they even look like anything had just happened.

"So you noticed them?" Jessica said slyly, as if she were not surprised. Bella shrugged, picking up her own apple and taking a bit into it, chewing carefully and swallowing before meeting Jessica's eyes. The curly-haired brunette looked bewildered for a moment—she must've been surprised that Bella seemed so unaffected by the beautiful cluster of students—but she did not seem deterred.

"That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife," She said under her breath. Bella grunted slightly. _That makes sense,_ she thought, _of course their diet would be so perfect with a doctor for a father figure_. Of course, that still did not explain why nothing appeared to be touched.

Bella glanced back at the table, and as she did, the redheaded one suddenly looked back at her. He met her stare for a moment, before apparently deeming _her_ a waste of his time and looked away. Bella did the same. It was odd to see the same reaction _she_ usually gave people reverted back to her, but Bella could honestly say that she wasn't bothered by it.

"They're pretty," Bella said quietly, a comment that accidently slipped through her lips. She hadn't meant to speak that thought aloud, and she cursed herself internally as Jessica's face brightened.

"Yes!" Jessica agreed with a giggle, seemingly joyous that Bella had actually responded back, "They're all _together_ though—Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they _live_ together." She sounded repulsed by the very idea, and Bella already knew that such contempt could only come from small town ideals. Not that she would ever adopt such morals, but Bella could see now the full extent of Jessica's narrow-mindedness.

"They're related?" Bella only continued the conversation for the sake of maintaining a semi-polite facade. She was trying, as her mother had insisted before her departure.

"Oh, no, they're not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales _are_ brother and sister, twins—the blondes—and they're foster children."

"Bit old to be foster children."

"They are now; Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that."

"How quaint," Bella murmured, finally deciding it was the appropriate time to show a loss of interest in the conversation.

"I guess," Jessica muttered reluctantly, a little perturbed that Bella had dropped the subject matter. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though," She added, as if that would spark a new conversation. Bella hummed, not particularly caring. The extent of Jessica's callousness didn't seem to have a limit.

Bella took another bite of her apple, not taking the bait that Jessica had lain out for her. Jessica frowned but continued on as if they'd been talking the whole time, "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska, actually. You're the first new kid since them."

Again, the indifferent girl said not a word. She did however glance over at the table again. She tried to gauge if perhaps their pale skin was the product of living in such a cold environment. As Bella scanned over them, her eyes landed on the redheaded one again, whose lips appeared to be moving slightly, as if he were speaking. Jessica picked up on where her gaze had landed.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time. He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him." The remark seemed to hold a personal annoyance to it—Jessica had probably been one of those girls. Bella would've been amused by such a thing, but why? She didn't particularly think Jessica deserved kindness.

"I wasn't planning on wasting my time," Bella said in a calm voice, then stood up and carried her plate to the trash can, dumping it as Alice Cullen had several minutes before. She swept from the cafeteria, without a glance back and without waiting for anyone to follow her out.

At her locker as Bella collected her books, she was approached by another girl named Angela Weber. The girl seemed just as quiet as Bella, though shy and genuinely sweet. She did not carry the same cruelty as Jessica seemed to, so Bella agreed to walk to Biology II with her for her next period which they had together. She was a kind soul, as Bella had assumed.

When they entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black-topped lab table. She already had a neighbour and smiled apologetically at Bella, as if she were sorry for not giving Bella a friend to partner up with. Bella nodded gently and gave the classroom a once-over. It seemed that the only free spot was beside Edward Cullen, the redhead she'd seen in the cafeteria.

Walking down the aisle to introduce herself to the teacher and get him to sign her slip, Bella kept a close eye on Edward, who seemed stiff and on edge. It made Bella wary. As she passed by, he suddenly went rigid, his head snapping up to stare into Bella's eyes. But his eyes no longer held a blank indifference to them anymore; they were as hostile as an irritated lion's would be.

Bella met his stare dead-on, but she couldn't deny to herself that a tiny spark of fear lit up in her belly. She tried to push it back. Whatever the cause for this newfound hatred towards her, it probably wasn't anything particularly interesting. Not feeling compelled to keep his gaze any longer, Bella looked away, finishing the walk towards the teacher. Mr. Banner—as that was his name—signed her slip quickly, handing her a book and not making any time for a class introduction.

With no other choice but to sit beside the seemingly furious boy, Bella quickly made her way over, sliding onto her stool and placing her books on the table carefully. Edward was leaning away from her, sitting on the very edge of his stool and averting his face like he'd smelt something horrid. Bella opened her book to the appropriate page, not giving him any attention. Perhaps he was just another asshole looking for attention, like the ones back in Phoenix.

The lecture was on cellular anatomy, something Bella already knew inside and out. Nevertheless, she took meticulous notes (she'd long learned from moving places that each teacher taught subjects differently and perhaps her way of thinking was not the same as the way she'd be graded on). The class dragged on, but Bella spared her daydreams and concentrated on the lesson.

At the end of the class, Bella made the mistake of glancing to her left. Edward had not relaxed his stiff position, putting as much distance as he could between the two of them—his fists were clenched tightly, the white skin pulled tautly over the bones. Strangely, he was glaring down at her, and his dark eyes—Bella noticed that they were pitch black—held an unmatched disgust and loathing. Bella hummed a little and her lips quirked into a nearly indistinguishable smirk.

The bell rang loudly, breaking whatever moment might've been set up between them, and Edward Cullen was up and out of his seat in a matter of milliseconds. He was out of the door before anyone else was even out of their seat. As if nothing had even happened, Bella packed her belongings up, making her way towards the door as well. She was stopped by a friendly voice.

"Aren't you Isabella Swan?" said the male voice. Bella's head rotated to face a cute, baby-faced boy with pale blonde hair and blue eyes. He was smiling graciously, the same enthusiasm as Eric had shown. _Another brave one,_ Bella tallied, _and he appears to have some sort of attraction to me._

"Yes," She responded. Her lack of an expression affected him way less than it had to anyone else. Bella almost chuckled; but then again, she never had before, so why would she now?

"I'm Mike."

"Hi."

"Do you need any help finding your next class?"

"No thank you. I have gym"

"Oh..." He struggled to find something to say next, "Well, do you mind if I tag along with you? I have gym as well." Bella shrugged and wove around him, keeping walking, not wanting to be late. Mike followed her with his same bright smile.

He was a chatterer—supplying all of the conversation, while Bella made a grunting noise here and there. He'd lived in California—a sun-valley child as well, though he seemed to appreciate the sun a lot more than Bella did. He was perhaps the nicest person Bella had met that day, apart from Angela who was simply a saint, even if she was not particularly outgoing.

Before entering the gym, he asked, "So...uh…what exactly does Edward Cullen have against you? He looked really pissed off." _So it was unusual behaviour for him,_ Bella thought, _perhaps I was the cause. It was bound to happen._

"I don't know," She responded, "I never spoke to him." Mike seemed a little antsy at her lack of words.

"Ah...he's kind of a weird guy." He leaned forward slightly as he spoke, and Bella took an involuntary step backwards, not appreciating the closeness. "If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you."

Bella hummed and spun around, walking into the girls' locker room. An admirer; how unusual. Bella had never had one of those before. Perhaps a flux of nature or a spot of good luck; but Bella didn't necessarily care for good luck.

The Gym teacher, Coach Clapp, handed Bella a uniform but as it was her first day, she was not required to participate with the rest of the class. _Physical exertion is not my forte,_ Bella thought, _especially since two more years of P.E. are required here._ It was just as well that she didn't have to participate though; Bella wasn't necessarily a bad athlete, she just didn't very much care for sports.

When the final bell rang, Bella walked slowly to the office to return her paperwork. Donning her sweater again, Bella threw her hood over her head again as she walked through the raining school grounds. The main office was warm again as Bella entered, but this time she was not alone. Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of her. He had his back to her and did not stiffen as she pressed herself up against the wall, waiting for him to leave, so apparently he did not notice her entrance.

He was arguing with her in a low voice, and the argument seemed to be about trading from sixth-hour Biology. Bella blinked, seeing the pattern in this. How odd it was for someone to take such an _intense_ dislike towards her; never before had she witnessed someone holding such animosity, especially for her. The ridiculousness almost made her smirk again, but instead she closed her eyes and waited.

The door was opened again by another student and a cold wind blew through the office. Immediately, Edward Cullen's voice halted, and Bella realized he'd probably noticed her. How, was a mystery to her, as she'd made neither a sound nor disturbed him in any way. She could feel his eyes boring into her closed eyelids, but could not bring herself to care.

"Never mind, then," He said hastily, and Bella noticed that he had a remarkably attractive voice, like honey glazed over velvet, "I can see that it's impossible. Thank you so much for your time." There was a sound like footsteps passing by her and Bella could feel his gaze again on her before the door opened and he was gone.

Reopening her eyes, Bella approached the front desk, handing Mrs. Cope her slip that had been signed by each teacher she'd visited. The auburn-haired woman glanced at the door that Edward had just rushed out of and back at Bella. She seemed to be making some sort of connection between Bella's appearance and Edward's hasty retreat. Whatever connection she could, that was.

"How did your first day go, dear?" The receptionist asked maternally, as if trying to offer some sort of shoulder for Bella to cry on, thinking that perhaps Bella would be devastated by Edward's attitude towards her. Of course, Bella didn't need a crying-shoulder. Bella didn't cry.

"Fine," She said, almost in a distracted voice. Mrs. Cope didn't look convinced, but decided not to argue.

When Bella got to her truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. It was warm and the peppermint smell still lingered, which was a comfort to Bella. Turning the key and hearing the engine roar to life, Bella headed home. _Today has been...interesting,_ she thought. Perhaps school would not be amazing (but then again, when had it ever?) but it would sure be _something_.

Things would be interesting for once.

\.../

_A/N:_ I hope that was entertaining for you. In case you ask, my Bella is not clumsy in this story. I always thought that made her so weak—the Damsel in Distress sort, and that always made me roll my eyes. My Bella isn't the most graceful of people, but she doesn't trip over dust.

-Breathless Tomb-


	4. Author's Note

The first and only author's note outside of a chapter that I will ever do:

Kay, it's official. I'm gone for good on this account. I'm older now (sixteen), and I've outgrown Twilight. It's been a nice run, for sure, but I'm totally done with it now. I won't say my stories are up for adoption—um...because they're not—, but I won't be completing them anytime soon. You were all amazing fans/reviewers and I treasure each of you, but I've moved on to different fandoms. I started a new account, though I won't mention it.

Some of you may be disappointed, others not, but this is for the best, you see. I have NO passion for Twilight left, I've actually come to dislike it quite some bit, for various reasons. My stories would completely and utterly suck if I kept trying to write. Fanfictions need passion and love for the fandom if they are ever to be completed and done well at that. I no longer have those two things.

I started this account when I was fourteen. It's been about two years since then, and I think this site has helped me grow so very much as a writer. I don't regret writing these stories. I probably never will, as much as they sometimes embarrass me.

Thank you again! I hope you have an amazing summer and…an amazing life? Since I'll probably never see you again?

Peace.

-Lia


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